Strange Returns
by Chaotic Demon
Summary: It began with a ring. A ghost, three students, and a heist.


I just realized that I've forgotten to upload anything I've written in the past year onto here. So...

Written for the Spoopy Halloween Fic Exchange

* * *

It began with a ring. It had been hidden in a nook in the far corner of the dormitory for many years, and, if it had not been for another of Trevor's escape attempts, it would have remained there for many more. Neville had known it was odd when he had first picked it up; the gray metal didn't have the feel of silver and the dark glass of the stone had swirled into a burst of color when he had placed it upon his finger. It was unusual, even in the wizarding world. Why then, he had wondered, had it been left behind?

The answer would not come to him for some time. Neville didn't particularly mind, concerned as he was with the Carrows and the DA. Still, it was a persistent thought in the back of his mind, a welcome distraction from the horrors of the school and the three empty beds in the dormitory.

In hindsight, there had been clues. The dreams, for one. The constant coldness of the ring, for another. He couldn't walk with ten feet of a ghost without the apparitions giving him strange looks. However, he would never have guessed at the truth.

It was during one of the dreams that he got his answer. Like every time, he dreamed of three other boys. They were Hogwarts students, Gryffindors according to their uniforms, and they called each other by the strangest names. They called him by one as well, for in these dreams he was never himself. Tonight, Not-Neville and his friends were crowded around a tattered, old square of parchment, the trappings of Gryffindor tower flickering around them in the firelight.

A handsome, dark-haired boy gestured wildly at the paper. "I'm telling you," he said, "This is a great idea."

"Padfoot," said a boy with a tired demeanor, "it's a terrible idea."

Padfoot gave the other boy an incredulous look. "How?"

Not-Neville pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Moony's right," he said. At the dark-haired boy's betrayed expression, he continued, "What if the Slytherins get a hold of it?"

Padfoot pouted and the fourth boy spoke up. "I thought it was a good idea."

"You're my only friend, Wormtail!" Padfoot declared dramatically. A beat. "Wait, wait. I've got it."

Not-Neville leaned forward in interest.

"Who the hell are you?" a voice asked from the corner.

Neville turned his head to see someone who looked an awful lot like one of his absent dorm-mates. The mystery man was frowning and kept grasping his hand at his pocket, as though he meant to grab something that wasn't there. The teenager felt apprehension flood him. "I'm Neville," he answered, eyes wide. "Neville Longbottom. Who are you?"

* * *

As it turned out, the man was James Potter, Harry's father. It had taken some time for both parties to trust one another, but Neville had eventually learned that the ring had belonged to the other man. One summer, James and Padfoot (who was apparently Sirius Black) had gone wandering in the muggle world and had discovered the strange jewelry. They had immediately bought four and had gifted the extra two to Moony (Professor Lupin) and Wormtail (Peter Pettigrew). The matching rings had been a symbol of their friendship and, during the last days of their seventh year, James had hidden his in the dormitory as a tribute to the Marauder's time at Hogwarts. A few years later, in his last moments alive, he had been focused on Peter's betrayal. His emotions had been strong enough that he had ended up possessing an object that he associated with his former friend.

For his part, Neville had explained the events after James' death. He told the spirit that Harry had survived that Halloween night, that You-Know-Who had seemingly risen from the dead two years prior (something which James oddly remembered), that the other man's son was currently on a quest doing something that would bring down his parents' killer.

James' expression had grown increasingly grave during the teenager's explanation. "So you're telling me that my son is on some sort of epic quest far away from Hogwarts where I can't help him."

Neville tilted his head to the side. "Actually," he said slowly, remembering a morsel of information Ginny had mentioned weeks ago, "there is something you can do for him here."

* * *

So it came to pass that on the sixteenth anniversary of James Potter's death, that very man was helping two Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw break into the Headmaster's office in order to steal a sword of legend. The ghost had been ecstatic to be able to help his son and thwart Snape all at once. He had thrown himself wholeheartedly into planning the heist and had convinced Neville and his two co-conspirators that Halloween was the best time to go through with it; the annual feast guaranteed that the new Headmaster would be preoccupied.

On the chosen evening, Neville, Ginny, and Luna, having ducked out of the Great Hall a good twenty minutes after the meal began, could be found scuttling through the halls, dodging the notice of any ghosts or portraits likely to report them.

James' familiarity with the secret shortcuts through the castle was put to good use as he led the three students from floor to floor. The four wandered for the better part of an hour. They doubled back several times; a few of the passages were no longer there and one let out in a different location each time they went through it. More than once, Neville caught Ginny shooting uncertain looks at their guide and he didn't know whether to be concerned or reassured by the dreamy excitement on Luna's face.

Finally, after many twists and turns, the group came to one last tunnel. It was hidden behind an old tapestry and consisted of a passage sloping steeply upwards, opening into a dark corner of the Headmaster's office. Neville clamored into the room with aching limbs. Ginny and Luna tumbled in after him

The sword of Gryffindor wasn't hard to spot; Snape had it displayed in a glass case behind his desk. James floated over to it and the students trailed after him. Neville tried lifting the glass, but found it too heavy.

"How do we get it out?" asked Ginny.

"We could ask the portraits," Luna suggested.

The previously quiet room was suddenly filled with raucous snoring. One ancient wizard mumbled "break it" between two particularly loud wheezes.

A fierce looking witch stopped feigning sleep to stare at him in disbelief. "It's enchanted, ya numpty. Ya cannae jus' break it."

"Levitate it!" one of the portraits squeaked.

"You need the password!" another shouted. The rest of the paintings seemed to take this as their cue and began yelling at one another about anything from blood feuds to who made the best vegetable stew. It was, of course, this scene that Snape walked into.

"What have we here?" the Headmaster drawled. His predecessors fell silent and the four intruders whirled around. Snape trailed his gaze over the frightened faces of his students before his eyes finally fell on the ghost. He took a step back as his face lost all color. "Potter?" he croaked.

For a long moment, no one moved. Then Ginny, with years of experience watching her brothers get in trouble, decided that it was time to run and tugged her fellow students after her. Neville turned to follow, but in his haste hit his hand hard against the desk. The sharp sting of pain halted him and he looked at his fingers in alarm; the ring he wore was now deeply cracked. He cast his eyes back to James, whose person flickered like shadows cast by a flame. After a moment, his friend's father faded away.

Neville only took a moment to recover from his shock. He sprinted to catch up to his friends, but it was too late for all of them. The secret passage had closed while they had been investigating the sword. The students were scrabbling at the unmarked stone when Snape, face pale and eyes wide, descended on them.

* * *

Although Neville continued to wear the ring for several weeks, he never saw James again. There were no more dreams and the ghosts around the castle stopped watching him with strange expressions. The teenager thought of giving the ring to Harry when they next met (and they would meet again, Neville assured himself), but the idea of explaining that it had once contained the spirit of the other boy's father seemed needlessly cruel. Thus, just before winter break, Neville placed the ring back where he had found it, in a dusty nook in the far corner of the dormitory.


End file.
